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Sparkles From the Wheel.

Part of the cluster AUTUMN RIVULETS.

SPARKLES FROM THE WHEEL.

WHERE the city's ceaseless crowd moves on the livelong day, Withdrawn I join a group of children watching, I pause aside with  
 them.
By the curb toward the edge of the flagging, A knife-grinder works at his wheel sharpening a great knife, Bending over he carefully holds it to the stone, by foot and knee, With measur'd tread he turns rapidly, as he presses with light but  
 firm hand,
  [ begin page 302 ]ppp.00707.310.jpg Forth issue then in copious golden jets, Sparkles from the wheel.
The scene and all its belongings, how they seize and affect me, The sad sharp-chinn'd old man with worn clothes and broad  
 shoulder-band of leather,
Myself effusing and fluid, a phantom curiously floating, now here  
 absorb'd and arrested,
The group, (an unminded point set in a vast surrounding,) The attentive, quiet children, the loud, proud, restive base of the  
 streets,
The low hoarse purr of the whirling stone, the light-press'd blade, Diffusing, dropping, sideways-darting, in tiny showers of gold, Sparkles from the wheel.

Part of the cluster AUTUMN RIVULETS.

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